


Waking Up

by xRaevyn



Category: Little Witch Academia
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 00:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10605081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xRaevyn/pseuds/xRaevyn
Summary: Croix wakes up after being in the hospital for an injury she sustained while protecting Chariot. Based on NeonFlower's Years Later AU





	

There were flashes of white and blues and pinks, all dancing above my head or beyond my vision, then the splashes of red like a pool of rose petals washing over me, sinking me deeper and deeper in the comforting scent. But from the back of my throat came the taste of bile and iron, blood and vomit, and I suddenly was transported from this pleasant drift of floral ocean to a sea of blood, me on one side, knee deep, and chariot on the other, reaching towards me with tears in her eyes. I felt the scorching, searing pain in my right arm and looked down to see that I was bleeding heavily, and was almost certain the arm was going to fall off, oil I heard the sound of my name being called and my eyes fluttered open, cutting away from the grotesque and bringing me into a room where there was constant, incessant beeping to the rhythm of what I assumed to be my heart rate, as well as the faint outline of Chariot’s face as she leaned close to me, grateful that I had managed to stir at last.

“You’re an idiot,” she said, and I blinked back the surprise. “You know that?”

“I’m… sorry?” I wasn’t sure what she was referring to with her arms wrapped around my neck like a personal garland.

“What were you thinking, taking a hit like that? You could’ve been killed!” Chariot had tears in her eyes and I could tell now that it was serious, whatever it was. “I nearly lost you…”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated, though I meant it this time. I placed my hand on her cheek, trailing her jaw and fixating on her gaze. In her eyes I saw flashes of everything that happened. The pools of blood, the hit meant for her, my timeless self-sacrificial action unfolding in skittering stills like a roll of film being drawn behind her pupils and in the shimmer of fluorescent glow from the hospital light. I felt like everything was happening in slow motion, and I wasn’t quite sure I knew what to do with myself. But she closed her eyes and I followed suit and suddenly she was pressed against me and we were kissing like no time had passed between us. I felt dizzy, sick to my stomach, but perhaps that was because I hadn’t eaten anything besides the butterflies I currently kept having to swallow. It had been a long time coming, this kiss, and I was disappointed that I couldn’t push anything more into it. I was far too weak, and she knew it, and she pulled away with such suddenness it was almost as painful as all those nights alone.

“No, Croix,” She shook her head, blinking back tears as she cupped my face in both hands. “I”m sorry. I’m sorry I spent all of those nights doubting you. I’m sorry I ever left you in the first place. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to move quick enough and that you felt you had to save me. I’m sorry for all the moments I wanted to kiss you but didn’t. I’m sorry for all the moments I fell short of telling you how I felt. I’m sorry for every bit of pain you must be feeling because of me. I— I can’t imagine what that must be like and I—“

I kissed her again, or, tried to, the act of moving forward was hard enough that I missed her mouth and barely managed to kiss the corner. “Shhh- no, stop. I don’t want to hear that. I don’t want to hear how guilty you feel because I’m the one who should feel guilty. I’m the one who does feel guilty. Every second of every day I regret ever wanting to let you go. I regret hurting you the way I did, and I regret never telling you that I wanted to go back to where we were at the start. I shouldn’t have tried to betray you the first time. I shouldn’t have let myself hurt you, because I love you, Chariot DuNord. I love you in the way that no woman has ever loved before. I love your sweet laughter when you cast spells you love. I love the way you say my name when everything around us is still. I love the way you look at the stars with such child-like wonder, even now. I love the look you get when you concentrate on something for long periods of time, that crease in your brow that I always want to kiss flat. I love the feeling of your fingers in my hair and your lips on mine, and the way we fit into one another like pieces of a puzzle we never knew we were a part of. You’re the sun in my sky and the moon at night. The lighthouse guiding me home when my thoughts circumnavigate the globe at a break-neck pace. You are my earth, my moon, my stars, my light, and every time I drink you in, I feel complete, if only for the moment. I see you in street lights late at night and in Saturday morning cartoons, I see you in every bright student who walks through the doors of my classroom, excited to learn. I can’t escape you and it’s torture because I know that I am the one to blame for all of this. I was lucky to find you again. I was lucky to be pulled back into your arms once more. I was lucky you wanted our friendship more than anything. And now? Now I’m lucky to see that some things haven’t changed, at least not as I thought they had.”

Everything fell still when I closed my mouth and I couldn’t tell whether I had just made the best decision or the worst decision of my entire life, because she was still sobbing but less auditory this time around. I felt her warmth as she wrapped her arms around me and for the first time I noticed that I could feel the fingers protruding out of the arm cast I was in, the one on my right side. For the first time in 20 years, I felt her hair in my hands, both hands, and stroked the back of her hand as much as I was able to.

“Shhhhhh,” I tried to coo her into less of a saddened state, but everything just seemed more and more impossible the longer I tried. She trembled against me, whimpering with every moment, but I let her cry, and cry, and cry, until she’d cried herself dry like I had long ago. “I love you,” I said, but it didn’t sit right in my mouth, so I said it again and again until it did. “I love you, I love you, I love you…”


End file.
